


Not Quite a Fairytale

by morganoconner



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Healing, M/M, Shapeshifting, Unicorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite a Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> A long overdue story for my darling makaze77, who basically said, "Go ahead and write me a creature!Stiles fic" and let me run with it. I probably owe her a lot of apologies in advance for this.
> 
> With many thanks, as always, to Miya for being a wonderful beta, and for reassuring me that I'm not nearly as ridiculous as I think I am when I write things like this.
> 
> Also, please note that this takes place a couple years post-S3. As such, there are potential spoilers for anything that's aired up to this point. Please proceed with caution if you're not caught up.
> 
> ♥

Stiles doesn't mean for anyone to find out. In fact, it's the one promise that he made to his mom before she died, that he would never, ever tell anyone. He would never let anyone discover the truth, because she had believed if they did, they would use him or destroy him. Possibly both.

So he doesn't mean for it to happen.

It does happen, of course, because almost no secret stays a secret forever, but the worst part is that it probably didn't _have_ to happen. Sure, the situation was dire, and someone was probably going to die a painful, horrible death unless a miracle happened. But it's not the first time Stiles and his pack have been in that situation. Hell, it's not even the fifth time Stiles and his pack have been in that situation, and they almost always manage to come out on top anyway. He should be used to it by now, after a few years of Beacon Hills' Supernatural Shenanigans.

But his instincts apparently don't agree with him on that, because the moment Derek goes down, the moment it really looks like the Fury is going to kill him, Stiles is up and running without consciously telling his body to move.

Scott and Isaac are both out cold. Cora isn't, but she's hurt, screaming her brother's name from across the warehouse. Peter isn't even here. Stiles is literally the only one who can save Derek's life right now, and while he'd never reveal his secret to save _himself_ …well, it's Derek. Stiles has never been very logical when it comes to Derek Hale, and it's only gotten worse in the past year while his hopeless crush has been ratcheting up a couple notches.

So he skids to a stop in front of Derek and faces the Fury head-on, hands clenches into fists to cover for how hard his heart is pounding. "You can't have him!" he shouts over the roar of those blazing wings and the sound of her furious (ha) screech.

"His guilt cannot be contained," the Fury says in her strange multifaceted voice. "It calls us to him, and we are bound to deliver judgment upon him. Stand aside!"

Behind him, Stiles can hear Derek's claws scrabbling at the concrete, undoubtedly trying to force himself up so he can stop Stiles from doing something stupid. Like Derek has ever been able to stop Stiles from stupidity before.

"He isn't yours to take!" Stiles glares up in pure defiance. "There will be no judgment here, got it? Just because he feels guilty doesn't make him guilty, no matter what your stupid rules say, and I won't allow you to play executioner. Not to him."

The Fury smiles, wings flaring out. "You will not _allow_ us?" she says, amused. Since she's more than twice his size and currently wielding the power of fire, it's probably not unwarranted.

"If you want him," Stiles tells her, "then you'll have to go through me." And so saying, he releases the pent up light inside, the power he keeps buried deep so that no one can see, so that no one can know. He feels the shift as it pours out of him, casting his body in an ethereal white glow. He knows his eyes are blazing gold, and he knows she's watching his horn appear, long and sleek and deadly, a weapon of twisted, shimmering beauty.

Her eyes widen in disbelief, wings arcing up in a defensive position. " _Unicorn_ ," she hisses, because there is not a creature alive who wouldn't recognize him like this.

"That's right," he says. His voice carries now, clear even over the sound of the Fury's rage. "So either you kill me to get to your real prize, or you leave and don't ever come back. This town, this pack, this _man_ – they're mine. I'll protect them with my dying breath."

Strong words coming from something like him. Stronger still because he means them right down to his core, and the Fury can clearly see that, because she only hesitates for a moment.

"We will go," she finally relents. Her scream echoes around the warehouse as she departs, vanishing into the air like she was never there at all.

Stiles sags. " _Jesus_ ," he mutters, going to run a hand through his hair. It bumps up against his horn first, and he grimaces because now that he's allowed the power to spill out for the first time in about ten years, he's going to have a hell of a time reigning it back in.

Well, he figures, he might as well make the most of it. He turns, dropping to his knees beside Derek, who's staring up at him and blinking furiously like he can't believe what he's seeing.

"Stiles?" His voice sounds nothing like it usually does, all the harshness and sarcasm ripped out, leaving just a careful sort of wonder. It actually sort of hurts Stiles to hear it, because he's not any different, not really. He's still _Stiles_ , and no one should sound that way about him.

"Stay still," he tells Derek. "You're hurt, and it isn't healing."

"It will," Derek says, still staring with wide eyes. "Just slowly."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna bleed out before that happens so _stay still_." When he's sure that Derek won't move, Stiles takes a breath, closing his eyes and trying to find that calm center where his abilities reside, the way his mom taught him so many years ago. A warmth at the center of his chest, and when he finds it, he breathes in, letting himself feel it filling him. On his exhale, he bends, touching his horn gently to Derek's forehead and letting the warmth flow out of him. _Heal_ , he thinks, desperately.

And just like that, Derek is healed.

It's a lot of power to use for a first run in so long; as a kid, he'd never needed to harness much, just enough to prove to his mom that he could. Now, it's enough to wear him out immediately. He braces his hands on Derek's shoulders to hold himself up as he blinks down into Derek's gray-green eyes and grins. "Good as new," he sighs.

"Stiles…" Derek says again, as verbose as ever.

"Think I'm gonna go to sleep now," Stiles tells him, blinking again because it seems like the warehouse is starting to spin. He grits his teeth and pulls _hard_ , trying to tug this part of himself back inside where it will be safe and hidden while he's unaware. After a long moment, he feels more than sees the light surrounding him begin to dim, his horn fading away in sluggish increments. If he wasn't going to pass out before, he definitely is now. He manages to fix Derek with one final pleading look. "Please don't tell the others," he whispers, and then unceremoniously allows himself to lose consciousness, toppling forward right into Derek's waiting arms.

  
*  


"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," is the first thing Stiles hears when he wakes some indeterminate amount of time later.

"Oh God, it's you," Stiles groans, remembering abruptly that Derek was not the only person awake in that warehouse during his little display. He opens his eyes to see Cora smirking down at him.

"Sorry to disappoint," she says. "I know I'm not the Hale you were expecting, but Derek had to get Scott and Isaac to Deaton."

Stiles sighs in relief before he can help it. "He's okay then?" he checks, because he has to be sure.

Cora snorts. "Oh yeah. He's got more energy right now than a toddler on jelly beans. I've never seen him so wired."

Oops. "And Scott and Isaac? You? All good?" He wishes he could have checked for himself before fainting like a distressed damsel.

"I'm fine, healed right up once the bitch was gone. The others are resting, but they'll be fine. She didn't want us dead, just out of the way." Cora's mouth twists angrily. "So she could kill him. Fuck, Stiles, if you hadn't been there…"

Stiles really doesn't want to think about that.

"Don't worry," Cora tells him. "We don't have to talk about it. Or you, for that matter." When he eyes her, she smirks again. "Your heartbeat just went through the roof. I can tell when you'd rather avoid questions. For the record though, you kicked ass. In case my brother forgets to say it…thanks for saving him."

Stiles shrugs it off uncomfortably. Cora leaves the room with a knowing look, mumbling something about food, leaving him to relax against some incredibly fluffy pillows and tug up what must be a zillion thread count sheets around him.

It takes him a horrifyingly long moment after that to realize: He's not even in his own apartment. Cora dumped him in _Derek's_ room, on _Derek's_ bed.

"Shit," he mutters, and buries himself deeper into the nest of blankets and pillows, like that will be enough to hide him.

  
*  


It takes Derek a few hours to make it back to the loft. Plenty of time in which Stiles could have eaten the sandwich Cora plopped in front of him (peanut butter and fluff, the good stuff) and made his way back to his own apartment. He'd thought about it, for sure. He wouldn't be Stiles Stilinski if he hadn't at least had one miniscule daydream about running away.

But he's never run away before, even in situations that called for it a hell of a lot more than this one does, and he's not going to start now. Derek deserves better than that. He deserves some answers, even if Stiles doesn't know how many he'll be able to give.

So Derek comes home and finds Stiles exactly where Cora left him, curled up in Derek's bed, leaving his scent all over it as he burrows comfortably, drifting in and out of cat-naps while he's been waiting.

Derek doesn't say a word when he comes in, just tugs his jacket off and throws it somewhere in the vicinity of the nearest chair before he slides onto the other side of the bed, leaning back against another pile of pillows and gazing down at Stiles.

"Hi," Stiles says, the word muffled by the comforter he has half covering his face as he blinks up at Derek.

Derek's answering snort sounds suspiciously like it could be laughter. "Hi," he replies. Then: "So, unicorns."

Clearly, trying for some decent segue is too difficult a task for a big brooding Alpha werewolf. Stiles glares. "What about them?" _Us_.

"I thought they were supposed to have died out," Derek says, his voice carefully even. "Everyone's heard the stories, but there's never been any proof that any were still around."

"There's a few." Stiles shrugs. "Most are in hiding. Actually, most are half-blood." _Like me_. "It's not…I mean, it's hard, you know? The power the use is, like, pure. It's…goodness. Light. Even in unicorns who are only half-blooded. All the things that are really hard to find nowadays. Rare equals valuable, so most of them are afraid to reveal themselves." He takes in a breath. It feels ragged in his lungs. "Most of us."

Derek's eyes soften with the verbal admission. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Stiles."

Stiles brings the covers low enough that he can show Derek a wobbly smile. "I want to, he says. It comes out surprisingly honest. "I haven't talked about it since my mom…" He stops for a second and has to clear his throat. "I actually thought I'd never talk about it again. Never… _be_ that again."

"You can't change who you are." Derek's brow furrows, like he can't imagine even trying. Which makes sense, because for all the shit Derek's been through, Stiles doesn't think he's ever once wished he wasn't a werewolf. He doesn't know anything different.

"Not technically, but after a decade or so of hiding it, you get more used to one thing than the other." Stiles shrugs. "I didn't think I even remembered how to bring it back until I was already doing it."

Derek is quiet for what seems like a very long time before he quietly asks, "Why did you do it?"

Stiles wishes he hadn't tugged the blankets away from his face quite so thoroughly. He's pretty sure the sunlight coming in through the giant loft windows isn't doing anything to make the way his face is reddening any less obvious. "I mean, it's kind of our job, right? Saving each other's lives? Next time will be your turn, that's all." Hell, it's probably even true.

"All the other times I've been in trouble, you've never gone that far." Derek's watching him with that piercing gaze that sees way too deeply into Stiles' soul.

"I've never had to go that far before," Stiles says, mostly out of sheer stubbornness.

"Stiles."

Stiles looks away, playing with the edge of his blanket. "I didn't see any other way out this time. Furies are serious shit, Derek, you know? She wouldn't have been satisfied until you were dead, and the others were down for the count, and it's not like I could've killed her. It sorta limited my options." He sighs. "And my power…it's meant to protect. So it's kind of instinctual. And I just turned twenty, which is a big deal to unicorns? Like, it's when they – we- come into our full power, I guess. I didn't think it would affect me much, but obviously…"

"You're mom died before she could tell you everything you needed to know about what you are, didn't she?" Derek asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Stiles nods. Doesn't sniff back tears, no matter what Derek might try to say later. "Yeah. A lot like yours, I guess." He winces even as he says it, but Derek doesn't seem offended.

"Does Deaton know? Maybe he could help you figure things out."

"No one knows except my dad," Stiles mumbles. "And, well, now you and Cora. And that Fury." Actually, it gets a little hard to breathe when he thinks about that, because that's more people than have ever known about him before.

Derek reaches over slowly, giving Stiles time to draw away if he wants to. When Stiles doesn't, just watches him curiously, Derek takes his hand and squeezes it. "I won't say anything, and I know Cora won't either."

"I know." Doesn't stop his heart from pounding, but he does know.

"And the Furies aren't actually evil," Derek reminds him. "She wouldn't say anything that could bring harm to you. Unicorns are basically sacred, aren't they? That's why she wouldn't hurt you."

Stiles nods. "I guess. Mom never had a chance to explain it all."

"Well, my parents always said that if we were ever lucky enough to meet a unicorn, it was out job to look after them." Derek smiles a little as he says it, like he's remembering.

Stiles blinks at him. "Really? They said…really?"

"Really." Derek's head tilts a fraction. "Actually, I wonder if maybe they knew about you and your mom. They were really upset when your mom passed away, and I remember them meeting with the sheriff after. But then –" He cuts himself off, but Stiles can finish the thought because he has a vague memory of Talia Hale in the station one afternoon.

"Then the fire happened." Not even a full week later. God, that was a lousy time all around.

"Yeah." Derek squeezes his hand again, a little harder like he's trying to take comfort as much as give it, so Stiles squeezes back. "I'd say maybe Peter would know, but –"

"No way," Stiles says, shaking his head hard.

"I know." Derek's mouth twists unhappily. "I wouldn't put you in that kind of danger, even if you _wanted_ to tell him. Peter…likes shiny things."

That's a nice way of putting it. Stiles hums noncommittally, not saying any of the dozen responses that immediately leap to mind. If Peter _does_ know, it would explain a lot about the way he's always treated Stiles, which has always creeped Stiles right the fuck out. If he doesn't know, well, Stiles isn't dumb enough to open that can of worms.

"So…" Derek trails off, then shakes his head. "Never mind."

Stiles inches a little closer and nudges Derek's shoulder. "C'mon dude, don't wimp out on me now. This is definitely the one and only time you have a free-for-all pass on whatever weird questions you want to ask."

Derek's face flushes, just a little, enough to be really enticing in ways Stiles is firmly telling himself not to notice. He even bites down on his lip, nibbling a little. It's adorable.

"Seriously, Derek. Ask," Stiles demands.

"Well, it's just." A tiny embarrassed smile tugs at his mouth. "I always figured unicorns were, you know. Horses. Are they all like you? Human-shaped?"

"That's it? _That's_ the awful question?" Stiles huffs. "Man, I could have come up with seventeen way more embarrassing things to ask just in the time it took you to ask that one." He grins up at Derek, who responds with an eyeroll. But that tiny smile inches up some more. "Anyway, unicorns are shape-shifters. I think? It might just be full-blooded ones. But my mom used to take me out to the preserve, all these secret places she knew, and she'd shift and let me climb up on her back and we'd just race through the woods for hours. We couldn't do it very often, but sometimes… Man, it was the best."

Stiles hasn't talked about his mom so much in years. It hurts a lot less than he might have expected. He can feel her memory settling over him like another warm blanket. It's a good feeling.

"But you've never…?" Derek asks.

"Nope. I don't even know how. If it's possible. I can shift just enough to show my true nature, and that's it." Honestly, the thought terrifies him. Nightmares of failing, of getting stuck in that other form, of getting stuck _halfway _…__

__"Calm down," Derek says quietly, and then his hand is unclasping from Stiles' and settling on his chest, over his racing heart. "Just so you know, if you ever did want to try, I could help. I wouldn't let any of the things you're imagining happen to you, okay?"_ _

__"Even failing?" Stiles asks, barely above a whisper. "It might not even be possible for me."_ _

__"Some things about shifters are universal," Derek tells him. "Half-blooded or full-blooded, if unicorns are shifters, and you are a unicorn, you can shift. I'm only a half-blooded werewolf, you know."_ _

__Stiles hadn't known that, actually, that Derek's dad was human, and it does something to settle his rapid heartbeat, knowing they have that one thing in common. And his interest is, admittedly, piqued. He's always wondered about that power, what it would be like to run as fast as his mom could, all on his own. Still, he can't resist: "You just wanna see me as a horse so you can make fun of me."_ _

__"I would never." It could be said totally mockingly, but Derek's eyes are steady, his tone even and serious. If Stiles had the ability to hear heartbeats, he doesn't think he would hear the smallest tick in Derek's right now. It makes him feel warm all the way through._ _

__"Well then…" Stiles pauses and takes a moment to take a slow breath, considering. "Maybe. Sometime." He smiles up at Derek again. "Thanks."_ _

__Derek nods._ _

__They're quiet for a while after that, until Stiles feels his eyes trying to slip closed again and Derek has drifted further down onto the bed, his hand back around Stiles' and his own eyes long-since closed. It's so quiet in the room; it feels like they're in a bubble, all alone in the universe for just this small speck of time, and Stiles doesn't say anything or make any move to leave because he isn't ready to lose it._ _

__"One more question," Derek murmurs after a while, turning his head just enough that he's looking Stiles in the eye. Stiles is a little alarmed to find him smiling. He's not used to Derek smiles._ _

__"Okay," he says tentatively._ _

__"It's just." Derek's eyes are glittering with amusement, with _mirth_ , and oh god, Stiles doesn't want to know anymore what's coming, he's sure of it. "So. Unicorns are supposed to be _pure_ and _good_ , right?"_ _

__Stiles eyes him balefully, already reaching back and gripping his fingers hard around one of his pillows. Ready and waiting._ _

__"So…what happened with you?"_ _

__The pillow flies out and bashes Derek right in the nose. He clearly doesn't care much, laughing too hard to even feel it. Stiles has never heard Derek laugh that way before. It's kind of an amazing sound, but _still_. "You suck," he grouches, not really caring that Derek will hear the lie in his heartbeat. He whaps him with the pillow one more time for good measure, yanking it away when Derek tries to hold onto it. Tucking it back under his head, he mutters, "And I'm only half unicorn, anyway."_ _

__Derek's grin is brighter than a nuclear explosion, and twice as devastating. He aims that beaming weapon right at Stiles and doesn't even apologize for it, the bastard. "Don't worry, I think you're pretty great anyway."_ _

__Maybe Derek was kidnapped and replaced with a pod person on the way back from Deaton's. Stranger things have happened in Beacon Hills. "I'm glad you think so," Stiles replies anyway. He says it sarcastically, but he means it, too._ _

__"Although it's weird…" Derek pauses. He blinks at Stiles, still grinning. "People always say _Scott's_ the one who's made of sunshine and rainbows."_ _

__"Oh my god, I hate you so much," Stiles says, half the words muffled because he's burying his head under the pillow and trying (unsuccessfully) to stifle his own laughter._ _

__In any case, they both know it's entirely untrue.  
_ _

  
*  


They don't talk about it again after that, at least not for a while. But they do start spending more time together anyway. (And by mutual unspoken agreement, that's another thing they don't talk about.)

And although the unicorn thing doesn't come up, it turns out they do end up having a lot of other things they can talk about.

It starts with talking about the pack. This is something they've been doing for a while now, but Derek's never been as open about his own feelings before. His fears about what will happen when Scott's potential as True Alpha is fully realized (it's slow coming, but it _is_ coming), or his tentative desire to find more betas now that things seem to finally be stabilizing in the area. They discuss a lot of stuff like that at length, and Stiles thinks both their friendship and the pack itself grow stronger for it as the weeks go by.

They talk about school a lot. Stiles learns that Derek was actually on his way to a graduate degree in Architecture (which is totally a thing Stiles never would have expected) when he left New York, and that he's apparently started taking two online courses this semester trying to get back into it. Stiles has morning classes at Beacon Hills Community College right now, and they end up spending a lot of their afternoons just studying together quietly, or bouncing ideas for papers off each other. Once in a while, Derek even shares the drawings for projects he's working on, and although Stiles doesn't know the first thing about architecture, he thinks they look pretty freaking awesome.

Sometimes they talk about their families. Derek is happy with how his relationship with Cora is going now that she's finally feeling more settled (it took her a long time), and he talks about how great it can be, feeling like a big brother again. Stiles talks about his dad, and how much he loves that he's started helping the pack when they get into a bind that could lead to legal trouble. It takes months for either of them to cautiously start talking about their family members who are gone, but eventually, they even grow comfortable talking about Stiles' mom and Laura and the rest of Derek's family.

Eventually, they start talking about how weird it is that Beacon Hills has been so quiet for so long. By then it's been six months since the incident with the Fury. It's right in the middle of spring semester now, and it's not like either of them _wants_ something to pop up, but they've never gone this long without something happening and it feels like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Finally, because one of them has to say it and it probably isn't going to be Derek, Stiles has to ask, "Do you think it's because of me? Do you think maybe the Fury spread it around, somehow?"

"Warning people off," Derek says, nodding like it makes sense, not looking surprised at all because he's very obviously been wondering the same thing. "I doubt she'd have said _why_ , but even if she just threatened to go after anyone who came here looking for trouble, that would be enough to keep a lot of things away." At Stiles' look, he smiles a little. "I think you'd be surprised how many creatures believe the same way my family did, knowing that unicorns are important and should be protected, not harmed."

Stiles flushes, looking away. "We can look after ourselves," he says, defensive by habit.

"I know," Derek agrees easily. "I always thought you were pretty capable even when you were just a scrawny human geek." He grins at Stiles' mock-outrage for a moment, and then says more seriously, "But just because you can doesn't mean you should have to. I had your back before, and I have your back now. Nothing's really changed for me."

"Except now it just means more?" Stiles can't help asking.

Derek shakes his head. "It always meant something, Stiles."

And that's how they start talking about unicorns again.

  
*  


"I'm still not sure I'm ready for this," Stiles admits, a little breathless as he stumbles along after Derek, who's traversing the denser part of the preserve with his usual werewolfy grace and ability to _never get tired_.

"You're the one who asked," Derek reminds him, looking back over his shoulder for the sole purpose of raising an eyebrow. Stiles doesn't stick his tongue out at him, but it's a close thing.

"Yeah, I know, but I just –"

"You're ready." Derek reaches back and snags Stiles' hand, squeezing it as he tugs him along. "I promise. You can do this."

Derek's belief in him counts for a lot, it does, and Stiles doesn't care what that says about him. But even with all that faith, he still doesn't know if he can do this. He's still afraid. "Where are we going, anyway?" he asks, to avoid thinking about it.

"It's not much farther," Derek says, which doesn't answer his question at all.

Stiles huffs, but decides he's better off saving the breath it would take to grumble at Derek to actually, y'know, _breathe_. (He doesn't ask to slow down. He never asks to slow down. Years of running with a werewolf pack have made him more stubborn about shit like that than he already was, and he was plenty stubborn before.)

They come upon the clearing seemingly out of nowhere. There's a break in the trees and then it's like being swallowed in sunlight and green and there's even wildflowers _everywhere_ , and Stiles stops in his tracks, gaping, before he just bursts into laughter.

Derek stares at him, looking perplexed.

"Dude. You have your own freaking magical clearing in the forest. I feel like I'm in a _Twilight_ novel." He's still laughing. He can't help it, and Derek's slowly rising eyebrow isn't doing anything to help.

"My mom showed me and Laura this place," Derek tells him, and okay, that tamps down Stiles' desire to keep laughing at him. But then Derek smiles and gives him a sheepish sort of shrug. "She did say it was magical, but we always just thought it was because it was pretty. I thought it might be a decent place for you to run."

Stiles looks around, and realizes that yeah, it's a big area. Really big. And also, given how far they had to walk to get here, pretty safe and cut off from the rest of civilization, barring wayward hikers. (There aren't a lot of those in Beacon Hills, given events of the past several years, so Stiles isn't worried.)

"It is a pretty great area," he admits. "Your mom had good taste." He rubs a hand through his hair, suddenly nervous. "So, uh, how do we –"

"Wait," Derek says. "First, are you sure you want to do this with me here?"

Stiles stares at him. "What?"

Derek grimaces. "I just mean. I know unicorns are supposed to be really…picky, about the people they want to be around. I thought maybe, in your true form, you might not…I mean, I'm not exactly a poster child for things like innocence and purity." He's looking everywhere except at Stiles, so he can't see the way Stiles runs the gamut from horrified to amused to embarrassed to touched.

"Okay," he finally says, stepping closer to Derek so he can take his hand, the same sort of reassurance that Derek's offered him several times by now. "First of all, total myth. I mean, maybe there are certain people who wig me out who I wouldn't let near me in that form, but not someone like you. You're a good person. That's what counts. Secondly, you should know that there are exactly three people in my entire life who've ever touched me when I've revealed that part of me. My mom, my dad…and you. And Derek, I didn't even hesitate when I healed you that day, okay? You have nothing to worry about, I promise. I want you here. Even if you hadn't already dragged me all the way _out_ here, even if you were willing to walk me through it and then leave before I actually shifted – if I even can, by the way – I would want you here."

Derek's just staring at him now, like he's lost all ability to form words. His eyes are shining, and Stiles doesn't know what that look in them means because he's never seen it before, but Derek is still holding tightly to his hand, so he thinks they're okay. 

Stiles smiles, tugging a little at Derek's hand. "Now come on, show me how to do this thing."

Derek nods, coming back to himself all at once and gracing Stiles with a shy smile. He doesn't reply to anything Stiles said, but he doesn't need to because it's all right there on his face. "Well, first, you're going to want to take your clothes off."

"Of course," Stiles sighs. Well, in for a penny… He whips off his shirt and shoes and socks and jeans and underwear as fast as he can, like taking off a band aid. "Wait, what about you?" he demands when Derek is still just standing there, calmly staring up at a stray cloud.

Derek blinks, looking back down with a strange expression. "I…didn't think I should actually shift?" he says it like a question. "I turn into a wolf. Your instincts when you first shift all the way like that can take over sometimes. You might be afraid of that form."

Stiles snorts. Can't help it, because he hasn't been afraid of Derek's wolf form _ever_ , and he really doubts a little thing like being an equine-shaped unicorn is going to change that. "Strip," he says. "Even if you don't shift, it'll make me feel better."

Derek's sigh is long-suffering, but he does what Stiles tells him to anyway, which…

Stiles may have been wrong about the feeling better part. Because now Derek is naked, and that is a thing that Stiles' brain should not be forced to handle. He feels his entire face heat and has to look away, but Derek doesn't call him on it.

In fact, the first thing Derek says then is, "Close your eyes," which is great, because eyes closed is a lot easier all of a sudden. "Take a few deep breaths."

It takes more than a few, but eventually Stiles begins to relax. His heart stops pounding so hard, and he becomes aware of his surroundings in new, calmer ways, like hearing the breeze rustling the leaves all around them, or feeling it brush against his skin. Smelling the sweet scent of the wildflowers, feeling the grass between his toes.

"It might be easier if you're in your natural form to start with, since that's a shift too, and you're more familiar with it." Derek is behind him now. Stiles doesn't know why, but that makes him feel safer somehow. Also more focused.

Shifting this way is easier now, now that Stiles has already done it once somewhat recently and remembers what it's supposed to feel like. Even through his closed eyelids, he sees the way the space around him brightens. The white glow is probably fainter in the bright sun, but there's no mistaking it. Behind him, he hears Derek inhale a little raggedly, like he wasn't prepared to see it again.

"Stiles…" Derek doesn't say anything else but his name. It makes Stiles want to turn around and look at him, but he doesn't. If he turns, if he sees Derek now, he's afraid he'll never be able to look away. His sight as a unicorn isn't actually different than his human sight, not physically, but it still…sharpens things, somehow. It brings a clarity of the mind that Stiles is pretty sure he's not ready for.

"What now?" Stiles asks, voice coming out softer than he intends. He's too aware of Derek's quiet footsteps through the grass as he comes closer. Warm fingers brush Stiles' arm, and he can't suppress the shiver. "Derek?"

"It's like a switch inside you," Derek says, speaking just as quietly as Stiles. "You just have to find it. For me, it's like a ball of heat right in my center. I press on it to release it, and the shift just sort of bursts out of me all at once. It could be anything, but search yourself and you'll find it."

"That sounds a lot like how I use my abilities," Stiles tells him. "Like when I healed you. It's just, like, this warmth in my chest, and I channel it where it needs to go to do what I need it to do."

"That sounds exactly right." There's a smile in Derek's voice. "It's probably the same source you need for the shift. You just need to figure out how to trigger it."

Stiles spends a few minutes trying to do just that, but he just…doesn't get it. It isn't working, and he finally sighs in frustration. "Derek, maybe I'm just not –"

"Stiles," Derek cuts in. His hand squeezes Stiles' arm gently. "Try _channeling_ it. Just like you would your healing, but this time channel it through _you_."

"Oh…" Stiles breathes. Maybe that will work. He inhales, letting the warmth fill his chest. Exhales, and it blazes through him like wildfire, shocking and intense. He would cry out, but he can't because he's already shifting.

He's _shifting_.

It's over before he has a chance to get used to the sensation. He suddenly stands on four legs, blinking down at Derek because he's taller like this. He looks around, looks _back_ and sees his own sleek, powerful body, all white and still softly glowing. His tail (his _tail!_ ) is so bright it actually seems to glitter in the sunlight.

This is some serious _Twilight_ shit up in here.

He flicks his tail up and finds that he actually like the way it shines though, so maybe it's not that bad. Glancing back at Derek, he wants to grin, possibly throw his arms around him in the biggest tackle-hug of all time, but he settles for nuzzling his face because it feels right.

Derek laughs. "Congratulations, Stiles." He brings a hand up to Stiles' face. Runs his fingers over his muzzle carefully, eyes sparkling. "You still have your moles, you know," he tells him. "Just a few black freckles on your face and neck." He grins. "Definitely still you. Even your eyes are the same."

Stiles doesn't care about that, he'll find a way to see for himself later. Right now, what he really wants is to run, and more than that, he wants Derek to run with him. Derek is the reason he's here, Derek _gave_ this to him. Stiles wants Derek with him. He nudges his shoulder impatiently.

"Guess you really don't mind being around me," Derek says, his voice soft again, almost disbelieving. "I'm glad. Can I…" He reaches up again, toward where Stiles knows his horn gleams, but pauses before he can actually touch. "I shouldn't." He starts to pull away, but before he can, Stiles bends enough to press it right into Derek's hand. Because of course he should, the dummy.

Aside from his mom when he was a kid, and the one time he healed Derek, no one has ever touched his horn before, and definitely not with any kind of intent. It feels strange at first, but in a good way. Like…like that feeling he gets immediately after stepping into a warm bath, or like the sheer pleasure of curling up in bed after a really long day. It's just… _good_. He wouldn't have thought he could feel much there, but he can. He can feel the warmth of Derek's hand, and it flows all the way through him, making him shiver happily.

It takes Derek a long time to pull away, and when he does, he's smiling again.

Stiles nudges him once more in this shoulder, this time less gently, and dances back a few steps, tail flicking.

"Well you clearly want something," Derek says, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow. "To run?"

Stiles' whole body wiggles in anticipation of the idea, but he holds himself still, wondering if he looks totally ridiculous. A jittery, playful unicorn. Not the sort of thing that makes up the fairytale books. He tosses his head.

"You…want me to run with you?" Derek asks hesitantly. He sounds shy again.

Stiles nods, which he _knows_ has to look absurd. It's hard to care.

"Like this?" Derek asks.

Stiles has been trying very hard not to fixate on Derek's nakedness, and it's easier now, but not so easy that he can ignore it when Derek indicates his whole body. He shakes his head fast. _Shift, dammit!_ he thinks as loudly as he can, but telepathy is not a unicorn or werewolf power, alas.

Still, Derek seems to get it, because he looks unsure for a moment, and then says, "As a wolf?"

Stiles all but bounces in place.

"Are you sure?"

Stiles glares at him as hard as he possibly can, which must not look any more intimidating as a unicorn than it does as a human, because Derek is trying to stifle laughter.

"Okay, okay. Just…" He takes a breath. "Okay." And shifts.

Watching Derek shift has always been one of Stiles' favorite things. If his own shift looked half that graceful or awesome, Stiles can die happy. He seriously doubts it.

Derek as a wolf is huge, but only about half as tall as Stiles as a horse. His coat gleams coal black. His eyes are red, but they don't scare Stiles because he can still see Derek behind them.

Stiles steps forward, showing how obviously unafraid he is, and he can all but see the nervous tension leave Derek's shoulders. He bends down, nuzzling again. Derek nuzzles back with a happy growl.

Yes, Stiles has learned to differentiate Derek's growls. There's a trick to it, and he'll never share with anyone.

And then Derek tilts his head, staring at him, and Stiles nods, because he understands perfectly, and they take off running.

It feels just as amazing as Stiles knew it would.

  
*  


Later, they collapse beside each other on the ground, worn out from hours of racing through the preserve. Once Stiles had gotten used to his body enough, Derek had led him away from the clearing and on a hell of a chase. It's a good thing there really weren't any wayward hikers, because they'd have gotten quite a spectacle.

Stiles can't bring himself to care much, because it felt so good.

But then, so does this, lying on the soft grass, Derek curled up right beside him, already halfway to sleep. They should shift back, go home, but Stiles doesn't want to yet, and surely a small nap won't hurt anyone.

He curves enough that he can rest his head beside Derek's, nuzzling him one more time just because he can.

They're both sound asleep within moments.

  
*  


When Stiles next opens his eyes, he's human again, and so is Derek, pressed up all along his side, one long line of warmth. Stiles' head is pillowed on Derek's arm, and for the first time, the nudity involved seems secondary to the simple-yet-perfect pleasure of just waking up like this.

Beside him, Derek blinks, his gaze slowly coming up to meet Stiles'. "Hi," he says, his voice gravelly with sleep.

"Hi," Stiles says. He gets the weirdest sense of déjà vu, and then Derek smiles and says, "So, unicorns," and he remembers why. His grin feels like it's going to take over his whole face. "What about them?" he asks.

"As it turns out, they're pretty awesome." Derek reaches over with his free hand to take Stiles' and wind their fingers together. This holding hands thing is getting to be a habit. Stiles really doesn't mind. "You know, I don't think I ever thanked you," Derek says.

"For what?" Stiles can't remember anything in recent memory he should have been thanked for, but then, maybe he's just gotten used to Derek never using his words.

"That day with the Fury. You stood up to her for me. That's a big deal, especially considering how powerful she was. And more than that, you used your power on me. You healed me." He shakes his head. "Of everyone in the world who never deserved to be unicorn-touched…"

Stiles frowns, looking away. "That's not…I don't want to be…special, just because of what I am. I mean, it's not…it's not about what you deserve, anyway. It's about me caring about you."

"You're special for dozens of reasons that have nothing to do with your heritage," Derek assures him. Stiles feels his cheeks burn. "But I still need to thank you for healing me, Stiles, because regardless of why you did it or how much you do or don't believe this, it was…more important than you realize."

"No, look," Stiles tries. "You could normally have just healed yourself anyway, you probably _would_ have, it wasn't anything special and I don't want –"

"Werewolves can heal their bodies," Derek cuts in, gently. "Not their hearts."

Stiles goes still. "What…what do you mean?"

"I mean that all that guilt that was inside me that drew the Fury to Beacon Hills… It isn't gone, I think some part of it will always be there. But it isn't consuming me, the way it has since I was a teenager. It's lighter. I feel like I can breathe, Stiles. Ever since that night." Derek actually pauses, taking a deep breath that he releases slowly, like he's illustrating his point. His eyes close, and he shakes his head. "I can't even tell you the miracle that that is. So _thank you_."

"I did that?" Stiles asks, his voice sounding very small. "I didn't mean to –"

"That's your gift," Derek tells him. "You make the world around you better. Unicorn or human."

"I…" Stiles swallows hard, doesn't really know how to respond. Doesn't even know how to feel right now, except that he feels a lot like he's free-falling from very high up. "I really need to kiss you right now." The words punch out of him breathlessly. They're not what he meant to say, but he's already following up with, "Can I?"

Derek doesn't reply because he's too busy leaning forward and stealing the kiss Stiles meant to claim for himself. Lips sliding together like this was always meant to happen and this, _this_ feels like a fairytale. Stiles whimpers unhappily when Derek pulls away too soon, licking his lips. "Yup," Derek says. "Just like I imagined."

Stiles stares at him blankly. "What is?"

"The way you taste." Derek smiles, should really never stop smiling because it keeps making Stiles' heart swoop around in his chest like a hummingbird on drugs. "Like sunshine and rainbows."

Stiles snorts a laugh. "Really. And what do sunshine and rainbows taste like, exactly?" he asks. He curls in closer, his hand trailing the smooth skin of Derek's side.

Derek hums, looking contemplative. "A little like stale coffee, actually. And sour gummy worms."

And that. Well, that demands tickle retribution.

And more kissing, obviously.

They don't end up leaving the clearing for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://morganoconner.tumblr.com/), where I am trying to train myself to be more active and not just lurk around, reblogging pretty artwork. Please feel free to come say hi! :D


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